


The boy who cried wolf

by Luflice



Series: Home is where your wolf is [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Full Shift Werewolves, doesnt change much there, it mostly just plays in the walking dead universe, this is the first part of something that will definitely get at least one more part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:06:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8923594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luflice/pseuds/Luflice
Summary: The world ended with them all scattered around the country. After Beacon Hills has turned into a ruin, Stiles and Peter find Shelter in Alexandria. Every few months they return to their old home town in hopes of finding some one from the pack waiting for them. Told in snippets.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a secret santa for Steter for hannibalsideblog's mun on tumblr. I hope you like it and wish you a merry christmas.

In the beginning everything was red. 

 

The first thing Stiles really remembers after the apocalypse began is sitting in his jeep on a deserted street, his wipers trying to get rid of thick blood all over his windshield. The sun was shining right through the mess, coating everything inside in red. For a moment it makes him gag, and then it just makes him laugh. 

 

Painful, drawn out guffaws that barely allow him to breath in between as everything comes crashing down on him. 

 

The second time he comes to himself, rain is washing away the last evidence of his mad escape, and a half eaten undead woman is knocking into the passenger side of his jeep again and again. It’s a dull rhythm that he can barely hear over the thrum of the rain and he wonders how long he sat there, her unseeing eyes pinned on him as if the predator in her could  _ sense  _  him. 

 

He kills her, and throws up, accidentally stumbling over the stump that used to be her arm and vomits again. 

 

For a few moments he just stares down at the pavement, letting the rain wash the last hours off him. 

 

Ten minutes later he gets back on the road, in the direction of the only place that was worth anything in this chaos. 

 

Beacon Hills. 

* * *

 

 

“What are you doing here, Richard?” Michonne asks with a frown as she steps into the house she had never seen occupied before. She, like everyone else new, had assumed it was just one of those empty or unfinished ones. But this one was clearly lived in. 

 

There were some clothes hanging over the couch, and everything had been arranged in a way that was probably peculiar for whoever lived here, it definitely didn’t look like the picturesque arrangements she had found in one or two unused houses. Maybe they had died somewhen in the past? 

 

She felt kinda bad for not knowing. But finally Richard turns to her from where he had been repairing one of the windows looking out on the front porch. 

 

“This is Stiles’ and Peter’s place. One of the windows got broken a while ago. They’re supposed to be back soon, so I thought it was only right to finally fix it. “ 

 

Those names mean nothing to her. Even in the town gossip - which she mostly gathered from others, no one really wanted to gossip with her - she had never heard either of them. 

 

“Peter and Stiles?” She asks, careful to keep the suspicion out of her voice for now. She’s getting better at it, she thinks. 

  
  


Richard looks at her in confusion for a few long moments, making her feel so uncomfortable and stupid that she is short of snapping at him when he finally opens his mouth again. “I guess they were gone before you came here. And in the beginning Dianne told us not to tell - you know , when Rick wasnt all there - and I guess we just forgot.. “ He trails off, frowning when he must come to the same realisation that she had a few seconds ago. 

 

None of the group knew about these guys and if they approached right now, somebody would probably shoot them before they got inside. 

 

“Im calling everyone together for a meeting at the church.” She hisses, narrowing her eyes at him before abruptly turning and marching out of the house. 

 

* * *

 

 

Peter finds himself in midst of the mess without really meaning to. If he could have, he would have probably barricaded himself somewhere inside his own apartment for as long as he could, but when hell really breaks loose he is out in the streets. He was just out for coffee with a client, one of the little things part of his routine as a big city dweller. He had liked it here, the anonymity, the possibilities, all the people just as sharp tongued and back stabbing as he is. 

 

Right now he regrets most of it as he sees how many have already been turned and how many throw others under the bus to safe their own fucking life. In Beacon Hills this wouldn’t have happened, he just knows that. 

 

Theyre coming from everywhere, everyone is screaming and bleeding and dying, and his senses are in complete  overload. 

 

He kills a handful of them with the nearest object he finds - a baseball bat of all things, but they’re like the Hydra. Kill one, two others come at him. He has no choice but to shift, he will be dead any second, already he is bleeding somewhere, and there are teeth anywhere - a truck drives through the mess and before he can think about it, he jumps on and holds on for his life. 

 

They offer him to come with them, to some military camp for refugees a few hours away, but he doesn’t want to be there, doesn’t like the idea of being fenced in like sheep, leaving others to protect them - or fail. 

 

So he declines, and when they offer to at least take him out of the city, he declines again. 

  
  
  


There are things in his apartment that he just doesn't want to leave behind. Cant really. So he gets off at the closest street that isn’t overrun yet and sneaks back to the building. As long as there’s not a group of them he can take them without too much effort, he is a fucking predator after all. 

 

He grins with too many teeth when he closes his apartment door, taking a few seconds to just breath. Peter is not stupid, he knows he needs to get out of here, and fast, but he just needs - to take a few moments to adjust his world view. While reports of riots and an epidemic had been spreading, he hadn’t thought it would be anything like this. He had thought that as a werewolf he would make it somehow. But he isn’t even sure if the wolf makes him immune to those beasts bites and he doesn’t really want to try. 

 

Still, the city is burning from riots and filling up with the sick quickly, he knows he has no choice really. But where to go ? 

 

He doesn't need to think about it very long. 

 

There is only one place worth looking at. 

 

Beacon Hills. 

 

* * *

 

 

“So they what - come and go as they like?” Everybody can hear the suspicion in Rick’s voice, and they are definitely not off to a good start. 

 

And maybe Richard hadn’t been quite the right one to explain it. .He still has that sense of carelessness about him, to him it doesn’t mean much that the two are coming and going seemingly randomly. He likes Stiles in a way, the guy is funny and they had all admired them for how easily they seemed to handle the outside life. That was another reason that Rick and his group had had to deal with so much hostility and misunderstandings. Stiles and Peter had been nice, maybe a bit harsh, and maybe they kept to themselves more than others, but they weren’t as rough and bitter as these people had been. 

 

Not that they could say that either, which Richard was just about to. 

 

Somebody had to intervene.

 

“They always brought something with them that we needed.  Spare parts, medicine, the rare stuff. They helped with security when here and they were nothing but helpful. “ Aaron protects their decision, raising his chin up high. “ Before you they were the best fighters here too, we would have been stupid to throw them out. “ 

 

There is a drawn out silence, before Carol asks the question they’ve all been asking themselves. 

 

“But where do they go?” 

 

* * *

 

Beacon Hills is a burned down husk when he arrives. At least most of the center is. Devastation hits him when he finds the signs of riots, when he sees the station destroyed and looted, more than aware that his father would have gone down with this ship, with this town. 

 

He spends the next two days barricaded in his childhood room, trying to get a grip. Compartalizing was something he was familiar with, but this - this was so much more than witches and alpha packs and all the evil the supernatural world had brought them. 

 

This was devastation on a completely new level, with no one to blame and no way to fix it. Stiles, Stiles could work, work hard and without pause as long as there was a goal. But what can he do now? What can he do but run and run, and never stop running? 

 

A knock on his window breaks him out of his spiraling thoughts, a clawed hand already pushing up the window sill. 

 

* * *

 

If anyone had asked him, Peter wouldn't have been able to say what he had expected in Beacon Hills. His nephew lived in a small town somewhere in Kansas now, and his niece was still traveling South America. Somehow he had thought that whoever survived would come here. And why not? 

 

Beacon Hills had always been the place they were drawn back to, and if not here, where else would they go? Where else would they be safe but where magic still means something, where pack still means something. 

 

Half of the town is burned down when he arrives, and he chuckles at the thought of all those pristine homes now joining his own in their state of empty and charred husks. From the last few stragglers on their way out he hears that the town had been overrun by outsiders, filled to the brim because somehow it wasn't as bad here. 

 

But a town can only hold so many, the Nemeton can’t protect all those strangers, and it fell like all others did. He waits three more days at their old home, at the loft, at the train station, before admitting defeat. 

 

At least for now. Beacon Hills would always be their focal point, but his safety held prevalence and he couldn’t afford to stay here much longer. 

 

As he passes the Sheriff station on his way out - it was strangely intact on the outside, except for all the glass littering the parking lot, but he could see the inside was looted and destroyed - he sends an absentminded prayer for the Sheriff, who surely fought to the last man for the peace of his town. 

 

He stops. Turns around. There is one place he hasn’t checked yet. 

 

* * *

 

 

The realisation that nobody had ever gotten a straight answer out of Stiles and his companion on where exactly disappeared to sits sour with all of them. The former residents feel strangely betrayed and the newcomers fear the worst. 

 

For the next days nobody talks about it. What is there to talk about anyways? They will arrive in only a couple of days and any questions will be answered then. Or not. Michonne looks at Rick’s tense shoulders and can't predict the outcome. 

 

Everything here is fragile as it is. While Rick has been accepted as the new leader he still earns more suspicious looks than smiles. These people hadn’t seen much of the gruesome death lurking out there before their group arrived, and some still liked to blame its arrival on theirs. 

 

Whoever those two strangers were, the towns folk of Alexandria obviously liked them and taking a wrong step now could make the tension explode. Michonne wasn’t worried whether their group would win the fight,no, but she didn’t want this to escalate into a massacre either. That was not who they had set out to be, that was not what she wanted to turn them into. Cruel conquerors, ruling with an iron fist and violence. 

 

She had joined the group because there was still some kindness in them left, because they were fierce protectors. And she wanted it to stay like that. 

 

Straightening, she pushed herself up and away from the post of the porch that she was leaning against, stepping into the house. It was time to have a talk with their leader. 

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


Stiles had argued for staying in Beacon Hills, to wait for anyone to come, but Peter had pointed out that they needed a better base of operations, that they needed more resources than what the town and surrounding land had to give and when that didn’t help, that there might be people that could use their help out there. 

 

The boy, a man now but he would always be a boy to Peter, a boy more brave than any human he had met, more daring, more giving -  _ just more _ . - had looked at him with tears in his eyes as he saw the Sheriff star the werewolf held out to him. 

 

“Your father would want to help them.” 

 

It was a low blow, they both knew it, but Stiles needed something to keep him going now, and if it took emotional blackmailing, then Peter would take that sin on his already black soul. 

 

Two days later they have left signs for the pack all over town, packed what they could find, and leave the town in a combi covered in makeshift armor. 

 

They lose the car after a week.

  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  


The first group they join betrays them after three days. 

 

They are the new ones, the weird ones out that seem unfazed by this all and they had earned mistrust from the start. When they stumbled upon them it was after two weeks of traveling on their own, of  _ going anywhere _ .  

 

They were dirty and covered in blood and still joking about everything around them with sharp sarcasm and bitter comments. Nobody liked Peter, and Stiles was only accepted because he was young and had saved one of their own on the first meeting. He had jumped right in front of a walker and hit the head right off it with a seemingly regular bat. 

 

A bat covered in runes and made out of rowan and blessed and hardened over a magical fire. Those strangers would never understand what this bat was, or how well protected they would be with the one who handled it. Walkers might not be magical, but they weren’t immune to it either. 

 

No, neither of them realised how lucky they could have been with a spark and a werewolf at their side, they just knew that the strangers seemed cold hearted, almost cruel, and when bait was needed so that the rest could escape? They barricaded the way behind them and left those two weird ones to their fate. 

 

Caged into a hardware store parking lot, half the paths blocked by turned over garden displays and furniture, the other by a horde of walkers, they thought that would be it. 

 

They’d die in the middle of nowhere, regretting that they ever trusted non-pack people in this world turned into a husk by a virus no one had seen coming. 

 

That is the first time Peter makes a full shift since his re-birth. And the last time anyone will have seen him in human form until Alexandria. 

 

* * *

 

 


End file.
